


Memories In Ash and Snow

by shinigami_yumi



Series: Across Time And Space [3]
Category: Samurai Warriors, Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors, Warriors Orochi
Genre: Childhood, Complete, Dreams, Established Relationship, Everything comes full circle, F/M, First Love, Growing Up, History - Freeform, M/M, Memories, Nene gets her answer on who raised Mitsunari to be so mean, Nouhime is an epic troll, POV First Person, Past Relationship(s), Yoshitsugu is too nice for them all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitsunari dreams of the important people in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories In Ash and Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This references the ending of [Head Over Feet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/451775), but reading that first isn't necessary to enjoy this. Of course, since the Cao Pi/Mitsunari relationship was established in the other fics in this series, this one will draw on them somewhat.
> 
> As usual, the background and setting of this story blends historical fact, Musou fiction and headcanon, plus an indeterminate amount of tidbits from other sources. In fact, A LOT of this fic is headcanon. If you've never heard of it, chances are either I or someone else made it up.
> 
> Since he remains a generic in the game as of Sengoku Musou 3, Yoshitsugu's appearance and characterization stem almost entirely from headcanon shaped by historical accounts or anecdotes.
> 
> All game references in the story are to Samurai Warriors 2 (English), Sengoku Musou 3 (Japanese) and Warriors Orochi 3 (English).
> 
> Much thanks to [oudeteron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oudeteron/pseuds/oudeteron) for the beta. All mistakes are mine. Tell me if you find anything we missed. I regret nothing.

One of my earliest memories is being sent to the temple surrounded by peach trees, my parents telling me that they’d miss me, that it would be better for me here where I could learn many things. I was four.

They didn’t return the next day. Or the day after. I was sad, but more than that, I was disappointed.

The head monk said I was strong for not crying. Too proud to admit I didn’t know why I’d been sent away, I merely said they had their reasons. He then said I was a child of great promise.

 

The head monk was strict, but he taught me many things, my favourite of which was tea ceremony. It wasn’t until I met Sen no Rikyuu years later that I learned that they had studied under the same master. He also taught me to read and write in both Chinese and Japanese using scripture and to make the straw sandals the monks wore. During daily meditation sessions, I would sometimes observe the temple visitors. Some were villagers in simple garb, some were soldiers in light armour, and still others were minor nobles in finery. Occasionally, men with strange facial features and especially pale skin dressed in black robes would visit. Unlike the other visitors, they would neither recite or listen to sutras nor meditate. They were, however, especially generous in their donations. The head monk said they were from across the sea, teachers of a very different set of beliefs from ours, and that they donated to us generously to be allowed to spread their teachings in peace. He called them Bateren. [1]

One day, a young monk stopped by on his way to Eigen-ji Temple. He was on a pilgrimage to all the major Rinzai temples to learn from the masters there. As I made him a new pair of sandals to replace his worn down ones and served him tea, he told me stories of his travels, of the outside world. There was a daimyō by the name of Oda Nobunaga expanding his territory by conquering other daimyō. As he went, he also destroyed many temples, calling them corrupt to the core. Some he left alone, as if he knew which ones were sullied. By corrupt, he obviously meant against him. They had started calling him the Demon King, both for his military prowess and his ruthlessness. It seems the man himself took a shine to the title, personally specifying that he was the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. Saying chaotic times were ahead, he also gave me a few lessons with the bōken.

That was the first time I met Ankokuji Ekei. When I saw him with Mōri Terumoto over twenty years later, I was surprised he remembered me.

 

One day when I was seven, a group of soldiers came in. Their leader appeared to be a commander of some rank, but when he beckoned me over with a hand adorned with a large bejewelled gold ring, he behaved and spoke like the villagers I’d seen around.

“I’m absolutely parched,” he declared loudly. “Get me a drink, boy.”

I bowed and hurried to comply. From what I’d observed in the temple visitors, only men who had taken an interest in foreign culture wore jewellery. I fetched a large glass out of the things the Bateren donated. If he was really thirsty, he’d probably want a lot of tea he could drink right away. The villagers who visited loved millet tea, so we always had a large pot of that on hand. It was only half-full, so I put some water to boil before filling the glass with the cold tea and bringing it to the man. Upon closer inspection, he looked very much like a monkey.

He seemed pleasantly surprised and finished the entire glass in one gulp. He turned the glass over in his hand, examining it with interest, as he asked for more tea.

I brewed a fresh pot and filled a bowl with the remaining cold tea and some of the hot. When I brought him the warm tea, he drank it more slowly this time, and upon finishing it, again asked for more.

This time, I brought him freshly brewed hot tea in a small teacup. He sipped at it and exclaimed, “Ah, this is the finest millet tea I’ve tasted since I left home about twenty years ago! Did you brew it yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

He gazed once more upon the three cups before him and took another sip of tea. “Excellent! What is your name, boy?”

“Sakichi,” I answered.

“Sakichi,” he repeated, thoughtful. “You’re a sharp kid, Sakichi. I like you. Nene, my wife, remains childless, and she has longed for many years to have a son to call her own. Tell me, Sakichi, would you like it if I adopted you?”

I gaped. I had been left there three years ago by my own parents, and I’d only seen them once since. Sometimes, even now, I think they had all but forgotten I existed. And yet, here was a man who wanted to adopt me over...three cups of millet tea? I could hardly take pride in such meagre hospitality.

I looked around the temple. In my three years there, I’d learned almost everything the head monk had to teach me. In truth, I was growing bored, and as the days passed, I thought increasingly more of the stories Ankokuji Ekei had told me of the outside world. Finally, this was my chance to see for myself what was out there.

I knelt and bowed. “My lord, I am forever in your debt. Please allow me to honour you as my father.”

Thanking the head monk for his guidance and care, I gathered my few belongings and left with the man. His name was Hashiba Hideyoshi.

 

By the time I was eight, I had just about tired of living in Lord Hideyoshi’s household. Lord Hideyoshi and Lady Nene loved and raised me as their own, or in Lady Nene’s case, too much like her own. There was no word to describe her affections but overbearing. The only other people there around my age were the sons of Lord Hideyoshi’s relatives and other vassals: Toranosuke, Ichimatsu and Keimatsu.

Toranosuke and Ichimatsu were brutes. They only liked to fight. Toranosuke, at least, had some semblance of a brain, having studied under Nichiren monks. He often felt like he had to protect me though, even if it was mostly from Ichimatsu’s more dangerous pranks. One day, after shaving his head again, his hair grew back all white. Ichimatsu, a plain idiot and a very loud one, teased him about it. They had to be pulled apart before they seriously hurt themselves. Their only saving grace was that they drank up Lady Nene’s affection like sponges, diverting her attention away from me.

When Keimatsu arrived, I was relieved. Despite holding his own well in fights, he was refined and liked to read, and he too tried to keep a little breathing space between himself and Lady Nene. His black hair and dark eyes contrasted with his fair skin. I sometimes wished I looked as good as he did. Toranosuke was attractive too, but I knew I’d never have his build.

Keimatsu, I felt, was the one person I could truly relate to. He was sweet and understanding, and we shared a love of tea and learning. I taught him to weave straw sandals. He built me a bird feeder and bird bath in the garden, so we could watch the congregating birds together. While he was there, I spent as much of the day as I could with him. Sometimes, I think he was my first love.

When we grew up, we changed our names, but Kiyomasa, Masanori and Yoshitsugu weren’t very different as men than they had been as boys.

 

Yoshitsugu was the first to leave, kissing me goodbye on the cheek like Lord Hideyoshi often did to Lady Nene. His family was headed back to Kyūshū. Realizing how stifled and alone I felt in his absence, Lord Hideyoshi arranged for me to leave as well. I was too bright, he said, to let my education stagnate, and it was time for me to learn how to operate in the society I would eventually live in. He said he’d found the perfect place for that.

That was how I found myself being presented to Mara himself as the latest addition to his household staff. I could have sworn I saw a sparkle in Lord Hideyoshi’s eyes every time he gazed upon Oda Nobunaga, as if the man was every bit the deity he claimed himself to be. Indeed, there seemed to be a hypnotic quality to his resonant voice as he accepted Lord Hideyoshi’s gift in a way that was at once gracious and grandiose despite never having spared me a second glance. Seeing the man himself and knowing of his achievements, I found myself quite impressed. What would it take, I wonder, to reach his level? And would I learn it here? [2]

When the formalities were over, and even Lord Hideyoshi himself had retired, the Demon King leaned back against the wall behind him, relaxed and sighed. Turning to the stunningly beautiful lady beside him, he said, “Nou, he’s yours.”

I had no idea then that it was possible to at once be completely at ease and wholly condescending.

She smiled, at once playful but losing none of the poise that had defined her the whole evening. “But he’s a gift from your biggest fan, my lord,” she said teasingly, transforming her dignified gaze with a bat of her eyelashes into a mimicry of Lord Hideyoshi’s look of pure adoration from earlier. “He even gave you his most favoured son.”

“Hmph... Don’t rub it in. Do I look like a babysitter to you?”

“Do I?” she riposted. “Anyway, he’s supposed to serve you, not be taken care of.”

“The only people I need serving me are you, Kitsuno and Saka, and we have more than enough servants in this house.”

“You mean just Kitsuno and Saka. I married you to be the Demon Queen, not your lady-in-waiting.”

He smirked. “Don’t I know it. I’m still waiting for the Viper’s Dagger to strike.”

She laughed. It was at once cold and affectionate. “You could have simply declined and told your pet monkey you don’t need another page,” she added, shifting the subject back to me as they both rose.

“That would require explaining. You know how much I hate that. Besides, you’re fond of the boy, aren’t you? You’ve been watching him all evening.”

At that, she smiled again, slipping her arm through his. “Aren’t we eager to please? You don’t have to talk in such a big circle just to say you accepted for my sake. You won’t let me lay my hands on the boys, so you find me another man’s son to spoil.” She placed a kiss on his cheek at the door. More softly, but still audible to me from where I was seated, her dulcet voice taking on a quality I now recognize as seductive, she added, “I love it when you’re cruel, my dear.”

He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “You always were a most fitting bride for a demon king.”

“And that is why you need Kitsuno and Saka.” Her hand lingered on him as she turned, a smirk curving her full lips. “Some women never tire of playing the submissive role.” Looking towards me, she called, “Come here, Sakichi. Don’t worry. I won’t bite...much.”

I climbed to my feet and hurried to her side. “Lady Nou.”

“Shall we begin then?” She placed her arm around my shoulders to lead me along. “I could get to like someone like you. Let’s see if we can’t find you a perfect room for now.”

Lord Nobunaga turned left into the corridor. Lady Nou turned right.

 

If I had expected the home of the Sixth Heaven’s Demon King to be a proper hell, I was disappointed. When I remarked “To think the Demon King does not reside in hell,” some weeks later, Lady Nou laughed with great delight and told me not to expect so much.

They possessed an extensive collection of literature on various subjects, which I devoured. True to her reputation for having the mind of a genius and the beauty of a goddess, Lady Nou was highly intelligent and knowledgeable in a great many things. It was she who taught me mathematics and to apply that to managing finances and logistics. She taught me of trade and governance, of strategy and of the arts. By dressing me in beautiful clothes and keeping me by her side at events, she also taught me the etiquette of the nobility, the nuances of politics and how to read people under the artifices of their formalities. Most importantly, it was she who properly taught me to fight.

Barely a week into my stay, she called me to her quarters one evening. I assumed, perhaps, that she wanted me to perform the tea ceremony. She enjoyed tea very much.

When I arrived, she was fixing her almost purple auburn hair before a mirror. “How fare you in a fight, Sakichi?” she asked with neither turning nor preamble.

“Presumably no better than yourself, my lady,” I answered.

At that, she turned to me, her smile at once amused and haughty. “Please, don’t mistake me for Kitsuno or Saka. Not even the Viper of Mino would send his daughter here without a chance of success.” She rose to her feet in a fluid motion, beckoning for me to follow her, and led me into the courtyard. “Come,” she said. “What did you learn to fight with, a bōken?” [3]

I nodded. After that meeting with Ankokuji Ekei, I’d practiced what he taught me often, and when I moved to Lord Hideyoshi’s home, I learned more from the other samurai there.

She tossed me a bōken. “Show me.”

Getting into proper form, I began to practice the moves I’d learned.

“No, attack me.”

I stopped, looking up at her.

She waited expectantly with her arms crossed. “You heard me, Sakichi. Must I repeat myself?”

I braced myself and moved into a better position. She didn’t so much as blink. I darted forward to strike her. She remained still, as if she expected me to stop. How annoying. At the last second, I switched angles for a side strike instead of a frontal one. In a move almost too swift to be seen, she evaded the strike, unbalanced me with a shove to my shoulder and swept my legs out from under me with a kick. To add insult to injury, she even caught me before I hit the ground, her smile mocking.

My anger at the indignity must have shown, for in her most patronizing voice, she cooed, “Aww. Over so soon? That fire in your eyes... I like that.” She laughed. “Still think you’re a match for the wife of the Demon King?” Abruptly, she pulled me into an embrace, the bōken falling from my hand. “Do you know?” she whispered, running her fingers through my hair. Her nails were never especially long, but they were always well-kept and sharp. “This is a dangerous house to live in. There are always, _always_ , people out to kill us. A man like Oda Nobunaga has many enemies.”

I gripped her bare shoulders for support. “Tell me something I don’t know, my lady.”

“Ah, such cheek. In a pit of vipers, you are but a cat, Sakichi; yet for that, you are my absolute favourite.” She stood then, pulling me up with her. “Come, my darling.” She picked the bōken up and stored it before guiding me back inside with a hand to my shoulder. She took me to the dancing hall. “A sword you will learn to use eventually as all samurai do. In the meantime, unless you want to die, you’d best adapt to living in the most lightly guarded wing of this house.” She picked up a fan and tossed it to me. “Most people only bear arms and wear armour on the field of battle, and there will be times when you will not be permitted to carry a sword. _That_ is when the killers will strike, for not all your enemies will be as idealistic as Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin.” In that moment, she was every bit the Viper’s daughter — the cold voice of experience poised to strike. “A fan, however, is a refined accessory for both the nobility and the literati.” She chose another fan for herself and opened it, indicating that I should do the same with mine. “And if _your_ fan happens to be made of razor-sharp iron slats instead of gilded wood... Well, few would be the wiser.”

Lady Nou was renowned for her intellect and beauty, somewhat less for being skilled in a number of martial arts. In battle, she wielded long claws, but she also had a serrated spear she favoured, and she was likely the first woman in Japan to learn to use a gun when her husband imported them from across the sea. Far fewer people knew she was an accomplished fan dancer.

A Viper can only breed more vipers, of course. In Lady Nou’s case, the Viper bred a Yato-no-kami. Saitō Dōsan’s dagger was but a metaphor. Had her prey been anyone but Mara incarnate, Lady Nou could have killed him with her teacup over dinner. Even with the finest silk and bamboo fan in hand, the only dance she knew was death. [4]

 

Some months later, a young girl came to visit, complete with an entourage bearing a crest I was then unfamiliar with. We received the guests in the audience hall, and to my surprise, she greeted Lord Nobunaga and Lady Nou respectively as Father and Mother Nou. She couldn’t have been much older than me. When the audience was dismissed, I stole another glance at the girl as I followed Lady Nou out.

“That is Toku,” my lady murmured as we returned to our wing of the house, noticing my interest. “Kitsuno’s eldest daughter. She was married to Matsudaira Nobuyasu when she was five.”

“Five?” I repeated incredulously.

She turned a look on me that was at once amused and pitying. “Politics, my dear. My lord may love us all, but we are still pieces on his chess board, albeit very important pieces.”

I said nothing, following her back to her chambers.

“Outraged?” she asked, whirling on me as soon as the doors slid shut, her eyes sparkling with glee.

“Should I not be?”

“Oh, no, please!” She laughed, delighted. “How adorable.”

“You only say that because you have no children of your own,” I riposted snidely.

“As if I would suffer any child of mine to endure the same fate my father wished for me,” she replied airily, fetching a bottle of sake from a corner and lounging on her futon.

Despite her lack of reproach, upon reflection, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. For all that she promised to spoil me, Lady Nou had taught me more in several months than Lady Nene had in as many years. She was twice as strict, but not even half as stifling, and while I was officially her page, she felt more like a mother to me than either Lady Nene or my own.

“Is it true that you are unable to conceive?” I asked tentatively, sitting before her.

She sipped at her wine. “You mean to ask if Kitsuno and Saka bear all the children because he loves them more and beds them more often.” It was not a question. She finished her cup of sake. “You do not understand my lord at all.” Pouring herself another cup, she continued, “Do you know that bearing and raising a child takes a lot out of a woman? Current medical knowledge cannot possibly restore the essence a baby drains out of of its mother while it grows in her womb. What more a child with the strength of Nobunaga’s spirit.” She downed it and set both the cup and bottle down. “Perhaps one or two would have been relatively harmless, but how many are they at now?” She shook her head. “At the rate they are going, I will be terribly surprised if either one of them lives a day past thirty.” She looked at me then, her smile bitter. “Knowing this, he chooses to procreate with them regardless. Tell me, Sakichi. Do you think it is that he loves them more or less?”

I had not considered that perspective, but her words made me think of my mother from all those years ago. I had not spared her a thought since I left the temple with Lord Hideyoshi.

“And you don’t mind that he spends only one night of the week with you?”

Lady Nou smiled at that. “Oh, that is exactly as I wish it. I find having to entertain anyone such an exhausting affair. Before Kitsuno and Saka came, we discovered that spending too much time together proved detrimental to our relationship. Once a week is perfect: just enough attention to keep a marriage alive without being stifling. You know me. I must have time for myself.” She sat up and her gaze grew distant, pitying. “Besides, the mortal world is but fifty years. Given their willing sacrifice, Kitsuno and Saka will see little more than half of that. Let them be happy while it lasts. After all, unlike me, they are far too noble to end up in hell with him.” [5]

When I found no response to that, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Your concern is touching, darling.” She placed her hand over my heart. “Still so pure and idealistic. Do you think it is cruel of me to wish to preserve that, knowing that, someday, it will crush you?” Pulling me close, she hugged me to her. “While you remain with the serpent queen, I will keep them from you, but one day, a venomous snake will swallow your heart whole and perhaps spit it back out poisoned. When that day comes, I will be watching, Sakichi. Your struggle, I think, will be a beautiful one.” Kissing my forehead, she released me. “Now, go. Let me change into something more comfortable.”

On my way back to my room, I found Toku crying alone in the courtyard. When she caught sight of me, she quickly wiped her tears with her sleeve.

“I—I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “I just...” She shook her head, sniffling. “Um. Don’t tell father you saw?” she pleaded sheepishly. “I... Please?”

I nodded.

“T—Thanks. I don’t want him to be disappointed.” She wiped her face again. “My name is Toku. I’ve never seen you around before, sister..?”

Sister? “Sakichi,” I answered, clearing my throat pointedly. “My name is Sakichi. And I’m not much older than you, if at all,” I added, making sure to use the most distinctly masculine pronoun.

“Ah! F—Forgive me.” Toku looked away. “Sakichi, right?”

I nod, handing her a red handkerchief with golden butterflies on it, one of Lady Nou’s. She took it and wiped her face again. She was very pretty, prettier than her mother, admittedly, from the few times I had seen Lady Kitsuno around.

“Thanks. When did you get here?”

“A few months ago.”

“And you are..?”

“Lady Nou’s page. Lord Hideyoshi’s adopted son.”

“I see. S—Sorry about earlier. I think...I think you’re prettier than me.”

I likely spluttered at that, but Lady Nou spared me the trouble of coming up with an appropriate response.

“Isn’t he the loveliest thing, Toku? If he weren’t holed up in this house with me, he’d be the most sought after wakashuu in all of Japan.” She stepped into the courtyard slowly, now dressed in a simple dark purple kimono that fit somewhat loosely about her curvy frame, her hair braided down the side. “What’s the matter, dear? You don’t often run all the way here when you visit.” [6]

Toku ran to her. “Mother Nou, my mother doesn’t understand!” she wailed, throwing her arms around Lady Nou’s legs, crying all over again.

“Of course she doesn’t.” Lady Nou ran her fingers affectionately through Toku’s long black hair. “She’s lucky. She got to marry for love because she wasn’t born a prized chess piece in the political game.”

“My mother-in-law is a terrible, terrible person!”

Lady Nou laughed. “Oh, come now, she can’t be worse than me?”

“BUT SHE IS!!”

“Shh... Oh my, my claws must be getting rusty.” She sat down on the veranda, pulling Toku along with her and indicating that I should sit on her other side. I did, and she patted my knee as she hugged Toku to her side. “What about Nobuyasu?”

Toku stifled her sobs. “He’s...okay? But he’s mommy’s boy. He listens to and does everything she says.”

“Ah, the most filial sons make the worst husbands when born to terrible mothers.”

“Mother Nou...I don’t want to go back!” Toku whined.

“Now, now, Toku. You know even I can’t let you do that.”

The girl sulked.

“But you’re a Demon Princess, aren’t you? You don’t _really_ have to take it lying down.”

Toku looked at her, puzzled, still wiping her face with the red handkerchief. “What do you mean?”

“Chin up, darling.” She pecked Toku on the forehead. “And be patient. Your chance will come. Do you know why you were married to Nobuyasu in the first place?”

“T—To secure an alliance between his father and mine.”

“Very good. Now, tell me, Toku. Who do you think needs this alliance more, your father or his?”

“H—His.”

“Smart girl. You’re your father’s daughter.” She patted the girl on the head. “So remember that, and keep your eyes open. _Your chance will come_.”

About a decade later, when Nobuyasu was forced to commit seppuku after his mother was executed, Toku would visit, again crying, but this time mostly to scream at Lady Nou for giving her the wrong idea. Lady Nou merely asked if she could reasonably be resented for Toku not thinking things through completely. After all, there were less extreme things Toku could have done besides accusing Lady Tsukiyama of treason. It didn’t make her feel any better that the accusations were true, that Lord Nobunaga wouldn’t have acted on them otherwise. When I visited two weeks later, Lady Nou would tell me what happened and ask me if I too thought she was to blame. I told her honestly that I didn’t know. She merely laughed and said I was too kind.

 

I had been serving Lady Nou for a few years when an envoy arrived from Uesugi Kenshin escorted by Lord Hideyoshi. He was accompanied by a boy of my age. Once the official business was over, Lord Nobunaga asked Higuchi Yoroku, supposedly a favoured retainer of Kenshin’s, what he thought of Lord Nobunaga’s policies. Boldly, the boy began a heated tirade on the Demon King’s injustice. I couldn’t help staring, somewhat impressed. He spoke most knowledgeably on Lord Nobunaga’s ruthlessness, and yet he was condemning the man to his face? Yoroku clearly had a death wish. Lord Hideyoshi’s eyes could have popped out of their sockets, and I could tell he was seething with rage at every word.

To my surprise, Lord Nobunaga merely laughed when the boy was done, asking him if he was finished. When the boy said yes, he remarked, “Hah! Such refreshing daring. Tell me your name once more.”

“Higuchi Yoroku.”

“You amuse me, boy. Perhaps, someday, you can be of some use to me.”

With that, Lord Nobunaga dismissed the audience. When we were alone once more, Lady Nou chuckled.

“Oh, what a delightful little boy!”

He rose. “Indeed. How interesting. I think I shall ask the Uesugi to hand him over.”

She laughed some more. “Even if Sentou-in were to agree, and she will not easily relinquish her adopted son, I doubt our cute little dragon would let the child go. They’re simply made for each other!”

“Hmph... Well, the boy will do neither of us any good dead. You know what to do,” he said, leaving the hall with his young page, Ranmaru at his heels.

Dead? Yoroku was going to die? I expected as much, of course, but surely...

Lady Nou smiled, rising to her feet as well. “Come, Sakichi.” She lifted a lock of my hair for a closer look. “You have split ends. Let me trim your hair.”

Despite the cold dread sinking into my stomach, I followed her to her room obediently. Lady Nou allowed me many freedoms, but she never let me cut my hair, saying that if I grew it out as long as her childhood friend, Lord Mitsuhide, I would be far more beautiful than he. She sat me down on a towel and knelt behind me with an ornate comb and a pair of scissors. She untied my hair and combed it out, cautioning me to sit up straight and still. It went down to my ribs. Before long, all I could hear was the unsettling snip-snip-snip of the razor sharp scissors as she cut approximately five bu off my hair. It seemed an ominous sound. [7]

“When we are done here,” she murmured out of the blue, startling me. “I want you to go to that boy, Yoroku’s room, and bid him gather his things. You must sneak him out before your father gets to him.”

I blinked. “My father?”

“Surely you saw Hideyoshi turn the colour of my hair with rage as the boy was speaking,” she explained quietly, still snipping away at my hair. “If he gets his hands on Yoroku in the morning, the kid will be dead long before he reaches Echigo. And if he finds the boy escaped, anyone who might have helped him short of my lord and I will not be safe from his wrath, and to favour a mere page over a most prominent and loyal vassal is unthinkable. But you, my darling, his most treasured son... You he will not punish.” She combs my hair out again, inspecting her handiwork. “That is why it must be you, and you must not be seen.” More loudly, she said, “You may stand now.”

I climb to my feet, relieved, as she folds the towel with my hair in it.

Back in a soft voice, she continued, “Yoroku is in the guest room closest to Saka’s wing of the house. Return to your room and wait an hour. By then, my lord will have drunk your father under the table, and everyone else will be asleep. Then do as I have said silently and never speak of this.”

I nodded. “Will he travel alone all the way to Echigo?”

She laughed softly. “The objective is to keep the boy alive, Sakichi. Ranmaru has likely arranged a modest escort already. He will be waiting outside the gate in the back.”

I smiled. “Good night, my lady.”

“Good night, darling.”

I returned to my room as she instructed and anxiously waited for an hour to pass. As I counted the seconds, the house gradually fell silent, and when the hour was finally up, I crept silently out of my room and hurried to the guest room as stealthily as I could. When I snuck inside to wake the boy, I had to clamp my hand over his mouth to keep him from yelling the entire house awake for help.

“Listen!” I insist, my voice hushed. “I’m not here to hurt you, but you can’t make a sound.”

When he fell silent and stopped struggling, I let him go. “What are you doing, sneaking into my room this late at night like a common thief?” he asked indignantly.

“Lady Nou sent me to help you escape. If Lord Hideyoshi gets a hold of you tomorrow, you won’t make it back to Echigo in one piece, so gather your things, quickly and silently now, and come with me.”

Wisely enough, he did as he was told, and together, we crept to the back gate. Sure enough, a young man with sideburns was waiting outside with Ranmaru. He was dressed like a ronin.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Is this the lad I am to babysit?”

“Yes, sir. To Echigo,” Ranmaru answered, indicating Yoroku.

“Ahh, pity. I wish it’d been the lovely maiden instead. Still, can’t let a kid die just for running his mouth. Where’s the justice in this land anymore? Well, let’s run along now.”

Before I could deliver an acid retort, Yoroku threw his arms around me. “Tell Lady Nou I give her my thanks. And tell me your name, my friend.”

“Sakichi,” I answered, returning the hug gingerly.

“Thank you, Sakichi. Keep love and honour in your heart, and someday, may we meet again.” So saying, he hurried off with the ronin.

We did meet again, some years later, but Kanetsugu didn’t remember me. Annoyed, especially given the earful I’d received from Lord Hideyoshi on his account, I insulted him. Unsurprisingly for a boy who had managed to endear himself even to the Sixth Heaven’s Demon King, he had become immensely popular in our time apart, and his master had to keep the others present from beheading me where I stood. Eventually, I would remind him, of course, and we would become close friends, but until then, he would yell my ears off about love, honour and justice every time we met. Well, to be fair, he never quite stopped, and to the chagrin of many, in that treatment, I was far from unique.

 

A few more years passed, and it was time for me to return to Lord Hideyoshi. I would first serve as his page, then be assigned a proper administrative or military post as he saw fit. Ranmaru too had been promoted to a responsible post, and rumours circulated that it was due to his close shudō relationship with Lord Nobunaga. Curious, one afternoon over tea, I asked Lady Nou if there was any truth to it.

She burst out laughing at the question. “Where did you hear that from? Mitsuhide?”

Well, I had certainly heard Lord Mitsuhide speaking of it, but he was far from the only one. “Multiple people, my lady. The rumour is fairly widespread.”

“Oh, Mitsuhide was the first to raise such concerns to me. He came to see me about it so many times, now people even think he and I are having an affair.” She continued to laugh heartily. “I do feel so badly for the poor man though. He’s so terribly conflicted. I cannot comprehend how it is possible to simultaneously love and hate a person as strongly as he feels both for my husband. Someday, it will tear his heart apart.”

“Lady Nou, you’re not answering my question.”

“Oh, Mitsunari, my boy. I cannot tell you with absolute certainty without spying on my lord, but if you’re asking whether I believe it, then no, I do not. In all the years I’ve known him, Nobunaga has never shown any interest in shudō. Besides, if he were going to pick a boy in this house, he would most certainly have chosen you.”

“My lady!” I protested, flushed with indignation.

“How adorable. That was a compliment. In beauty, ability and loyalty, Ranmaru is no match for you. No, there are reasons he favours Ranmaru, but their sharing a bed is not one of them.” Lady Nou smirked. “I think this is Mitsuhide expressing his jealousy: it upsets him that Ranmaru is increasingly more favoured than he is, and the suspicion that the boy may have what he so desires is almost too much to bear.”

“I see,” I murmured, turning the thought over in my head as I poured us both another cup of tea. As she said, it was impossible to prove anything without spying, and knowing wasn’t worth the threat of death.

“Still,” she continued. “Shudō is a beautiful thing. If you are ever offered the opportunity with someone to your liking, you should give it a try. At the very least, you’ll know what it is like.”

When I returned to Lord Hideyoshi’s land, the first thing I did was cut my hair to shoulder-length. There, I was reunited with Kiyomasa and Masanori. They had changed little: Kiyomasa was still an overprotective acolyte, Masanori was still a loud idiot, and they were both as brutish as ever. But the years had only filled Kiyomasa out, and he was, if possible, even more handsome than he had been as a boy, and as tall, well-built and strong as he was obstinate. Growing up had also given him a kind of charisma that set him apart from the other men around. And something was different between us, even as we settled back into familiar routines, something that felt a lot like desire.

One night, Kiyomasa came to my room. I did not turn him away.

 

The first real battle I joined Lord Hideyoshi at was Yamazaki, in his march against Lord Mitsuhide to avenge Lord Nobunaga. Lady Nou was right about her friend’s feelings tearing him apart. Even as he fought us, despite his victory over the Demon King, it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. On top of his grief, he also seemed slightly spooked. Of course, there were rumours that Lady Nou had survived Honnouji and even reports that Lord Nobunaga himself had been seen, but no proof of either. Once we’d won, he ordered a retreat and fled the battlefield, and some of the soldiers sent in pursuit claim he spoke of being cursed and having seen ghosts. He successfully escaped, however, he was never seen again, and his corpse was claimed to have been found no less than three times soon after.

More importantly, at Yamazaki, we were joined by the Tsutsui clan led by a certain Shima Sakon. He called himself the world’s greatest strategist, hardly the first to claim such an accolade, but I had to admit... He knew what he was doing out there.

Later, I heard that he had left the Tsutsui clan’s service because he was angered by the injustice of his lord and the clan’s allies. Intriguing. A number of Lord Hideyoshi’s vassals, also impressed by his display at Yamazaki, had offered him a position, but were all declined. That day, it was Katagiri Katsumoto reporting that the man had declined a stipend of fifteen thousand.

“If I may, Lord Hideyoshi...” I interjected once Lord Katagiri had finished. “With all due respect, I think nothing you say is going to change anything, but if we must have this man in our service, perhaps you would allow me to try?”

I could see a number of the other daimyō present rolling their eyes. It was obvious they didn’t think very highly of me and didn’t see any point in my attempting what so many others had failed at. Hmph...

Lord Hideyoshi shrugged. “Why not? Hey, it could happen. Had he come to me himself, I would have offered him a position in your service anyway.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I answered, bowing to hide my smirk as the ones who rolled their eyes exchanged glances. Turning then to Lord Katagiri, I asked, “Where is he currently located?”

“I believe he will be staying at a pleasure house in Gifu for the rest of the week.”

A pleasure house? My lips curled in distaste. Still, I did offer...

That was how I found myself in Gifu seeking out this wandering strategist. In the chaos at Yamazaki, I didn’t manage to get a proper look at his face, but standing there at the door looking upon the scene of him surrounded by women as he told me not to bother offering anything below fifteen thousand, I knew that I had to have him, that his hatred of injustice was true. A man both genuinely talented and just was a difficult find. I decided I wanted him by my side as an equal. I could never forget those sideburns.

 

Korea..? I considered myself honoured to be so trusted, but I knew far too little of this foreign land to be of great help in the war. Lord Hideyoshi was only sending me because he couldn’t go personally. In truth, I feared that by the time I returned, it would be for his funeral. Also, Korea meant I would see Kiyomasa again, and the prospect was far from pleasing. Things had soured between us since the war began, and his correspondence indicated that he would be far less pleasant in person. Of all things, he was angry at me for telling Lord Hideyoshi the truth. He blamed me for “siding with Konishi Yukinaga.” What was he expecting, favouritism? I could hardly lie about his comparative lack of good sense. As I stood on the ship’s deck in the sun staring out towards the open sea, I felt a little queasy, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was seasickness or foreboding.

“Sakichi..?”

I turned. I hadn’t heard that name in years. I found myself looking at a beautiful man with black hair, dark eyes and fair skin. I blinked, some memory rising to the surface.

“Keimatsu..?”

“Ah, I knew it was you! I’d never forget those beautiful copper tresses.” He ran over to envelop me in a tight embrace. “It’s Mitsunari now, right? Mine is Yoshitsugu.”

“Yoshitsugu... My friend, it has been too many years,” I murmured, returning the hug.

“It appears we will be working together on this, so we’ll have plenty of time to catch up. I have heard much about your exploits in Lord Hideyoshi’s service.”

I smiled. “And I have heard comparatively little of you. Tell me everything.”

He did. When we reached Korea, we shared a tent and reminisced as we worked. As I stared at the maps, I realized the conquest of China was an impossible dream. Looking out upon the scorched earth of the Korean landscape, I knew in my heart that even if we conquered Korea, it would not remain ours for very long. The people were against us to the core. Yoshitsugu toiled tirelessly beside me, attending negotiations and planning meetings, keeping late nights to figure out if anything could be done. And every night, he would kiss me on the cheek before we slept.

Kiyomasa was difficult and disagreeable, and the few times we saw each other, we fought. He simply refused to admit that he’d made mistakes that jeopardized the war effort and continued to blame Yukinaga for every failure. If anything, it was both their faults for being a bunch of obstinately competitive brutes. At least Yukinaga was willing to listen, plan and work with us.

After another long night of strategizing, Yoshitsugu kissed me goodnight as usual, only this time, he touched his lips to mine instead of the cheek as was our custom. By this point, I’d long since despaired of Kiyomasa and considered our relationship beyond repair. Moreover, I’d always loved Yoshitsugu, and our time together there only made it far too easy to remember why. I returned the kiss, and he did not return to his bed that night.

Back home in Japan much later, I would regret that night for many years, ashamed of my own weakness for betraying him so. Yoshitsugu was far too kind to hold it against me, but I knew I had hurt him more deeply than anyone else ever could. The way Kiyomasa had groaned apologies and excuses in my ear while taking me against the wall of an empty house left little to be explained, and Yoshitsugu asked no questions, merely lamenting that he hadn’t found me again sooner. It only worsened my self-loathing in the coming years, and after Kiyomasa left once more, I knew I’d long since found my venomous snake. When Yoshitsugu decided to stand by me to fight Tokugawa against all odds years later, I felt it was far more than I deserved. I never should have let him go.

 

One day, shortly after Kanetsugu had introduced me to Yukimura, I ran into my new friend walking around Lake Biwa with a bubbly and pretty young lady in a red kimono with a yellow sash on his arm. They seemed close, but Yukimura... well, he wouldn’t know romance if it hit him on the head with his spear. There was probably more to this. Curiosity piqued, I went to greet them.

“Ah, Lord Mitsunari! Good afternoon. May good fortune be with you.”

“Yukimura, you never cease to amaze me. I did not foresee this.”

“I... Lord Mitsunari, w—what do you mean?” he asked, genuinely confused.

The young lady laughed. “Why, thank you for misunderstanding, Lord Mitsunari! My name is Hatsune. I am Masayuki’s youngest sister, that is to say dear Yukimura’s aunt.” She reached up to ruffle her nephew’s hair. “I’m only several years older than him, but you certainly made me feel young again!”

“It is good to meet you, my lady. I had no idea Lord Masayuki had a sister.”

“Ah, caught me already, have you?” She giggled, her brown eyes bright with wit. “I’m adopted. Maybe that makes me guilty as charged?” She waggled her eyebrows at an increasingly lost Yukimura.

“A bold admission, my lady. I must say I am impressed.”

“Well, if you’d offer me your arm instead, Lord Mitsunari, it might clear me of these charges...”

“H—Hatsune! Lord Mitsunari, of what is my aunt guilty?” My friend actually seemed genuinely worried.

“Nothing of import, I assure you.” I patted him once on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Oh, it’s all in good humour, dear.” She ruffled Yukimura’s hair again. “Well, I need to return to Ueda Castle soon, so I’d best get going. Have fun?”

With that, she turned and ran off. I found myself staring after her retreating back. Her long black hair was tied up with a red handkerchief with golden butterflies on it.

 

Cao Pi and I dismounted in the peach garden I saw on my first trip to his castle and led our horses between the trees. Some of them bore ripe fruit; others were still in full bloom. The sun was slowly setting over this unnatural world, and it was growing dark. When we came upon a small clearing, he stopped, looking around.

“This place should serve our purpose,” he decided, indicating an especially old tree in the glade.

I nodded, and he handed me several sticks of incense as per their custom. We lit the incense, stood before the tree and turned towards the sunset. He let me choose the words, repeating after me as we swore brotherhood and asked to die on the same day, month and year, just as I remembered from the books. When we were done, we placed the incense at the base of the tree.

“It’s dark. Let’s go back,” I said, heading for the horses.

“Not yet. Spare me the banquet formalities.” He examined the fruits of the surrounding trees and plucked one that seemed ripe before taking the water canteen strapped to his horse’s saddle and pouring some of the water over the peach to wash it. He took an experimental bite and proclaimed, “It doesn’t taste strange, so perhaps it is safe to eat.” He sat down between the roots of another tree.

“It is _our_ victory,” I reminded, sitting down beside him.

“That is being celebrated as my father’s? Indeed.” He held out the peach to me.

I eyed it warily. “Just because you haven’t fallen over dead yet doesn’t mean it isn’t poisonous.”

“Then you can make good on your oath to die on the same day, month and year as I do,” he replied, taking another bite before offering it to me again.

I could have gone and plucked one for myself, of course, but at least that particular one hadn’t given him any symptoms of poisoning just yet, so I bit into it. He was right. It tasted like an ordinary peach — sweet, fragrant and juicy.

“There,” I said, eating another bite. “Exactly equal. If it _is_ poisoned, we will uphold our oath to the very same hour.”

“Honour even in sharing a peach?” His lips curved in fond amusement.

“In everything.”

I took a third bite before pushing it back towards him. Without hesitating, he bit off a third mouthful as well, and taking turns that way, we finished off the whole potentially poisonous peach. At the end, he tossed the pit towards the incense sticks that had, by then, burned down halfway and turned to gently press me to the grassy ground.

“Lech,” I chided softly as he blanketed my body with his own.

He smirked. “Would I waste our time alone together, brother?”

“Hmph. You never cease to amaze me.”

“Heh, I thought you know me well.” He brushed his lips lightly against mine, cupping my right cheek with his hand. In the reflected light of the moon that had risen while we were eating, his dark eyes seemed a silvery grey. Like a fish caught on his line, I could only stare up at him. “Let the Heavens further bear witness,” he murmured against my lips, growing suddenly solemn as he laced our fingers. “That on this day, we have also shared a peach, and grant our prayer that this bond we have forged in the fires of chaos will last unto eternity.” [8]

As he kissed me then, it finally dawned on me why he had specifically chosen to share just one peach with me instead of plucking another. In his land, a tale is told of a young man in the Zhou Dynasty presenting an especially delicious peach he had bitten into to his lord and lover to taste it as well. This was...a lover’s vow. And while the youth later lost his lord’s favour as he lost his beauty, Cao Pi had declared the permanence of his desire.

I... I couldn’t breathe.

My chest constricted, the air caught in my throat, and I could only lie frozen as he nipped my parted lips.

Until he offered to kill Tokugawa Ieyasu earlier, I hadn’t realized the sincerity of his wish to keep me by his side. Despite that night’s promises, I assumed he would lose interest soon enough, and we’d simply share a mutually beneficial working arrangement for as long as I remained useful to him. After all, what more could a ruthless prince who would have sixteen consorts want of me? And yet, after a lifetime of expecting too much...

Seized by sudden emotion, I gripped him tightly to me and returned the kiss. I realized it that morning as I set my fan down beside him — that I wanted him to remember me. That even if it was doomed to pass, it meant something, and I cursed the folly of my choices. Perhaps it was karmic justice, retribution for what I had done to Yoshitsugu, that I should love most dearly the one from whom I’d surely be parted.

“Mitsunari?” His tone, when we broke apart for air, was concerned.

I turned away. “I—It’ll be your fault if the demons find us, and we have to fight our way back to the castle outnumbered and with barely any armour.”

He laughed. “We will still cut them to shreds, my love. With you by my side, there is none to match me.”

“How arrogant.”

“We just slew their master. They’ll leave us alone for a while yet. Besides, we still don’t even know that we’re not going to die from poisoned peach within the hour.”

 _By the Gods._ Fools, the both of us, through and through. I crushed him to me in a fierce embrace. Even if this world would end someday, and I would have him no longer. Even if we were never meant to meet or know this desperate hunger. On my life, I swore it. I repeated his vow into his ear. “Whether we’re side by side or centuries apart.”

 

I blink away snowflakes on my eyelashes as I wake to a grey sky. Lying outdoors in winter seems a poor time to be dreaming of the past. Despite the falling snow, it is warm, and I turn my head to press a kiss to Cao Pi’s jaw. His arms are familiar by now; I knew from the first who held me. He’s leaning against the trunk of a tree, and we are surrounded by other snow-covered trees and bushes.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. It was growing terribly dull just sitting here.”

“Where a—”

A loud crash sounds in the distance, followed by the bright glow of an explosion. A gigantic snake head rears in the sky, and everything comes rushing back. We were defending Hulao Gate against the demon hordes when the two Hydra heads rose up out of the ground. Nothing we threw at it had any effect, not even to buy time for the full-scale retreat in progress. We ran, of course, but then the ground heaved, and I was thrown off my horse, which is the last thing I remember. We have to run.

I push myself to my feet.

Or try, at least.

My legs won’t respond, and it hits me then that I can’t feel them. _No._ Panic rising, I grab at them, but I can’t feel my hands on my legs. _Please._ I move my hands up with a growing sense of helplessness. I can’t feel anything below his arms around my waist. _No, no, no._

“Cao Pi, what are you doing?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain level. “You have to get out of here.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he answers, not budging. “I promised I wouldn’t die here without you. Same day, month and year, remember?”

A lump forms in my throat, and it takes three tries to swallow it. “T—That’s not how it was meant, you fool.” I hate that my voice cracks regardless. “D—Don’t you dare...”

“Shh...” he hushes, his hands cupping my cheeks from behind. “No, no, no.” He holds me more tightly to him, burying his face in my hair. “I broke my leg when I was thrown off my horse. It was all I could do to crawl over to you.”

“What, to laugh at me? I don’t need your pity!” I yell angrily, roughly pushing his arms away.

“Don’t insult us,” he ripostes sharply, warning, taking my hands in a grip so tight I cannot twist out of it. “I make no futile gestures. It’s too late for us both now.”

“The Cao Pi I know wouldn’t give up so easily,” I choke out softly, my nails digging into his skin, closing my eyes as the ashen landscape starts to swim. I’ve never felt so overwhelmingly powerless, and I hate it. I hate that he’s here, that he’s giving up because he won’t leave me, that I’m a burden he can’t let go of. _Damn it, Cao Pi. You shouldn’t be like this. What happened to the ruthless prince I read of in the history books? Be selfish and go, damn you. Just leave me to die._ But I can’t make my voice work, and he’ll see right through me like he always does. Again, I’m ashamed of my weakness, and he’s never mattered more to me, never been so vital. Damn it all, Cao Pi, you can’t die for me. Not like this.

“I’m ambitious, but realistic.” He sighs, holding me close. “Death is something that even I cannot overcome, Mitsunari. If this is the end, I am glad it is with you.”

“Where is your wife?” I try instead, looking around desperately, when I can finally speak again. I can’t let him do this. He can find a horse and escape. He has to. The demons haven’t found us yet. The Hydra doesn’t seem to have spotted us. But it’s only a matter of time.

“I don’t know. Safe, I hope. Zhen led the retreat, as you might recall.”

“Zihuan, you have to try,” I tell him insistently. “Go to her. Don’t do this.” Not for me. “You still have your dream.” There must be a horse somewhere. There has to be.

“Did I ever realize it?”

I stiffen. It’s the first time he has ever asked me directly about his future. And I’m torn — between telling him the truth, lying and refusing to say.

“Tell me. Now that it no longer matters. Did I ever unify the land?”

I take his hand and press his knuckles to my lips, shaking my head, pleading, “Go. Go. Find a horse and go. It can still matter. You still have much to accomplish, and you won’t do it here.”

“Enough, Mitsunari. You’re a terrible liar. Why do you even bother?”

I know. I know I cannot change his mind. Nothing I say is going to change anything. But, Gods, “Cao Pi, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. It’s a waste of life. Don’t be a fool.”

“I said, enough!” He shakes me by the shoulders. “Quit wasting what little time we have left with this useless fighting!”

I stop. He’s right — this is an exercise in futility, and I’m wasting my time, _our_ time. I flop back, suddenly exhausted. “I’m sorry,” I sob, turning to bury my face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” for more than I can articulate. Forcing a smile, I ask, “What would you rather do instead?”

He falls silent, pensive. “I have not had the luxury of reading books about you,” he decides after some thought, accepting my obvious pretense. “Tell me about before.”

But it makes me smile — fondly, wistfully, _genuinely_. He might just be the best there is at that around these parts. “The books do you little justice, so it matters not that I have read them,” I admit.

They were not wrong about his flaws, but they spoke far too little of his qualities. When I read of him, I thought him ruthless, licentious and cruel. When I knew him, I found him paranoid, alone and conflicted. I would never understand why a man so terrified of everyone around him would trust a former enemy from a different time, but like a sword of frozen flame, he stabbed me icily through the heart to burn my very soul, and in this moment, it is the _sweetest_ pain.

So I tell him, briefly — of the temple, Lord Hideyoshi and Lady Nou, of Hatsune and Sakon, of Yukimura and Kanetsugu, of Kiyomasa and Yoshitsugu. Tokugawa Ieyasu, he already knew of. “Kiyomasa was my first,” I confide when he asked about them, and he grimaces, that possessive self-important bastard. “Everything I taught you I liked, he discovered, and it was good while it lasted. But Yoshitsugu... I’ve loved him since we were children, and I believe he felt the same for me.”

“So why did you not go to him when you got here?”

I laugh bitterly. “How could I? The Yoshitsugu you’ve met here is from his prime, before he ever fell sick, before that utter debacle that was Korea. Knowing how I would hurt him in the future, would you have me dig his wound deeper in the past?” I scoff, self-deprecating. “No, I made sure to keep my distance.”

He shakes his head. “I could never bear being second place in the heart of someone I love.”

“Hmph. And you say you know my heart. Don’t kid yourself.” Stupid, stupid prince. You are hopeless to think I would ever give so much to someone who hadn’t won me over completely.

Cao Pi laughs, pressing a kiss to my temple. “But I do, Mitsunari. I was referring to Katō Kiyomasa. That is how you know he never truly loved you. I am only glad a fool like him is not in my ranks.”

Before I can respond, another fireball crashes into the walls nearest to us, and he wraps himself around me protectively, shielding me from any potential debris. It is close enough that we can feel the heat, but the breeze only covers us in ash and snow.

There’s no time, I realize suddenly. _There’s no more time._

“I wish I’d loved you sooner,” I confess, turning around as best I can to wrap my arms around him. It’s not enough, but the truth is? It could never be enough.

He shifts, lying down and manoeuvring me so I’m cradled in his arms beside him. “I wish I’d been your first,” he returns softly, combing his fingers through my hair as I hold him to me tightly. “In every sense.”

In spite of everything, I cannot help but laugh. “Has anyone ever told you how ridiculously possessive you are?”

His gaze is fond yet challenging. “Who would have cause to complain?”

“Hmph. You’re so insufferably spoiled, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

He only laughs indulgently in response. “Tell me, my love. Do you think there is anything beyond death?”

“Hah, how... predictable of you,” I sigh, oddly content. “I grew up in a temple, so I may not be especially religious, but I do subscribe to the idea of reincarnation.”

Cao Pi nods. “That’s good. I hope you’re right. That way, I can find you again.”

I am about to reply, but he suddenly kisses me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see why.

So... this is it. A lifetime of fierce battle and deadly intrigue, and it all comes down to a single fireball.

Heh, pitiful.

I hope it’s true — that there’s a life after this one. How could this be the end? We’ve even beaten Orochi twice. _Find me, Zihuan,_ I will him silently. _Find me. Let’s change the world together again._

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Bateren - Portuguese missionaries. The term is believed to have originated from the word padre.  
> [2] Mara - One of the names of the demon that is the 第六天魔王 (dairokuten maou, Demon King of the Sixth Heaven), Nobunaga’s famous title.  
> [3] Viper of Mino - Saitō Dōsan, Nouhime’s father, was so known.  
> [4] 夜刀の神 (Yato-no-kami) - Snake deities in Japanese folklore rumoured to bring familial extermination on anyone who saw them.  
> [5] In saying that the mortal world is but fifty years, Nouhime is referencing Nobunaga’s alleged rendition of the poetical dance Atsumori, in essence quoting her husband.  
> [6] 若衆 (wakashū) - in this context, the younger, sexually receptive partner in shudō, which you should look up because it’s a little too complex to be explained in a footnote.  
> [7] 分 (bu) - Japanese unit of measure for length approximately equivalent to 3.03 millimetres or 0.1193 inches.  
> [8] Yet another reference to homosexuality in ancient China, the (super-summarized) story goes that a couple went fishing. One lover caught a fish and, upon catching a better one later, wanted to throw the first one back into the river. Reflecting upon this, he lamented his own fate, saying he too was like a caught fish, and once his lover had caught a better one, he would be thrown back into the river (i.e. dumped/forgotten). Look up “Lord Long Yang” for more details.
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> As always, I appreciate feedback of any kind! Please leave some! <3


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